Come to the Dark Side
by MelodyPond77
Summary: ...we have cookies. Sorry. Couldn't help it. :) Anyways, a series of unrelated dark one shots for various competitions on HPFC. 1. Gregory Goyle finally excels at a subject in school-Dark Arts. 2. Bellatrix wishes Voldemort would say something to show her she made the right decision. 1 Rated T for mild language/torture, 2 rated M for sex/murder/torture.
1. We Have Cookies

**Wishes of the Dark Side Competition (Inner Circle)**

Gregory Goyle, I wish I had never met you, expelliarmus!

**Monthly Drabble-a-thon**

Afraid

**Oh the Thinks you can Think**

Max

**War on the Elemental Song Quotes**

EARTH: Are you at war with land and all of its creatures? -Serj Tankian, "Sky Is Over"

**Star Challenge**

Acrux: It is also known as Alpha Crucis. Write about a Horcrux (because the name kind of sounds like Horcrux, doesn't it? :P). Alternatively, write about the Cruciatus Curse.

**Inspiration-By-Shakespeare Challenge**

Julius Caesar: betraying a friend

* * *

"Today, class, we will be reviewing our torture spells. We have some Gryffindors in need of punishment. Who can raise their hand and tell me a torture spell?" Professor Carrow sneered at the students. The Gryffindor first years cowered against the wall, quivering at his words. I would've felt sorry for the poor bastards, but they were Gryffindors. I was a Slytherin. I hated Gryffindors. It was what we did. I would torture them because then I would be the best Slytherin. So I raised my hand, sure I had the right answer this time.

"Yes, Goyle?"

Good. He called on me.

For once, maybe I could excel at class.

"I think I know one," I called in my slow, cumbersome voice. I thought about it hard so I wouldn't forget. I couldn't forget. This was my big break.

"That's generally the point of calling on someone," Malfoy muttered behind me, and I flushed, the spell flying from my mind in a second.

_Damn Malfoy. I wish I had never met you. _

"E-expelliarmus. That's a torture spell, right?" Malfoy had distracted me, and now I had forgotten what I was going to say.

Damn ferret.

I must've been wrong, because everyone in the class started to laugh at me. Professor Carrow growled, his face turning purple.

"No, you idiot! Expelliarmus is a defensive spell! It's for children! Not superior Dark Wizards. You, boy, are to be a Death Eater. You are to take your father's place, and the best you can come up with is Expelliarmus?!" He had leaned into my face, glaring up at me, as I was a head taller than him. Still, he was a scary man.

"I'm sorry, professor. But... but it must be powerful, right? Isn't that what Potter used against the Dark Lord? He got away, didn't he? So it must be powerful," I reasoned. Yes! I was good for something.

Apparently Carrow didn't agree with me. "Y-you... good...powerful...but..." he spluttered, turning a nice shade of eggplant in his fury.

"EXPELLIARMUS IS NOT A POWERFUL SPELL!" He finally shrieked, spittle flying in my face. "POTTER IS A CHILD! HE IS WEAK! HE DOES NOT KNOW POWERFUL SPELLS!"

I blushed furiously, embarrassed to be yelled at in front of the Gryffindors. Behind me, I could hear Malfoy-_supposedly your best friend_-laughing at me.

I had had enough. I didn't like the dark side anymore. The dark side sucked. And they had crappy food anyway.

"OI!" I yelled, turning around to glare at Malfoy. "SHUT UP YOU SLIMY GIT! I WISH I HAD NEVER MET YOU! YOU WERE BETTER OFF AS A FERRET!" I was so angry, I did the only spell I could think of-

"Crucio!" As he screamed in pain before me, Carrow's anger faded and his smile returned.

"Well, well, my boy... we'll make a fine Death Eater of you yet!" he said, clapping me on the back.

Maybe the dark side wasn't so bad.

_They do have good cookies. _


	2. Say Something

**Song and Swap Competition**

Say Something by Great Big World, Voldemort

**Star Challenge**

_Bellatrix:_ Write about Bellatrix. Alternatively, write about either of Bellatrix's sisters (Andromeda or Narcissa).

**Inspiration-by-Shakespeare**

Twelfth Night: disguising oneself/maintaining a false identity

**Fiddler on the Roof Song Challenge**

Do You Love Me?: Write about the reaffirmation of vows, the type of vow is up to you. Alternatively, write about an arranged marriage.

**Fiddler on the Roof Character Challenge**

**Mendel:** Write about a pure blood heir. Alternatively, write about a hidden crush **(do I get extra points cuz I incorporated both?)**

**Disney Character Challenge**

Cruella de Vil: a woman obsessed with fur. Write about someone's obsession. Alternatively, write about Bellatrix Lestrange.

**Monthly Drabble-a-thon**

Bellatrix Lestrange

**War on the Elemental Song Quotes Challenge!**

WATER: _Some water for the dead tree_. -Dir en Grey, "dead tree"

**Collect a Collection Competition**

Death Eaters: Bellatrix Lestrange

* * *

"My Lord, I pledge myself to your service with pleasure. I shall bear your mark with pride, and answer your call at any moment. I shall do your bidding, no matter what the cost. I would gladly live and die for you," Bellatrix knelt before the Dark Lord, her chest heaving with the excitement of her latest kill, the one that would prove her to her Lord. She gazed up at her master through heavy lids, eyes full of love and lust. To any other man she would be terrifyingly beautiful in that moment, her skin glowing with exertion, her hands stained with blood, her eyes rimmed with black, making the burning fire in them ultimately consuming.

But Voldemort felt nothing. He said nothing. He merely touched his wand to her proffered wrist and didn't react when the hiss of pain she emitted reached his ears. The writhing snake swirled onto her skin, burning into her. And he simply walked away, saying nothing.

_Say something, my lord. _She inwardly pleaded. _Show me you feel anything for me. _

If he heard her thoughts, he said nothing.

* * *

Bellatrix was always the first to meet her Lord, and always the last to leave. She always hoped he would say something to her afterwards, ask her to stay, talk to her, take her. He never did.

The glory was wearing off. She wanted to run, to hide. She had never feared anyone in her life. And she didn't fear Voldemort. But she was giving up on him.

All she wanted was for him to say something, _anything, _that made her realize she had made the right choice. That placed her above them all, that showed her he knew exactly what she was putting on the line by joining his band of Death Eaters. She wanted him to acknowledge all the taunts, the harassment she endured at the hands of the misogynistic men who "fought" by her side. She was stronger, more bloodthirsty, more daring than _all of them-_and all of them had been singled out in praise by the Dark Lord for various achievements.

Except her.

She was giving up on him.

* * *

He could tell what she was thinking. His mark bound her to him, and whenever she thought of him, he could tell.

She was giving up on him. He would have to do something about it tonight. She was a fierce thing when driven by want, and if she still had hope...

Well, Tom had realized long ago that fear was strong, but hope was stronger. But the two combined... they were unstoppable.

She was going to go down in a fight that night if he didn't stop her, so as she left the meeting, he allowed his hand to grasp her wrist. She relaxed immediately into his grip, allowing him to turn her slowly around, their eyes meeting.

The door clicked shut behind the last member, and they were alone.

Even without her flashing thoughts ringing through his mind, Tom Riddle could read the lust and want in the woman's eyes. Her low cut dress seemed to be pushed lower as her breathing deepened; with each heave of excitement the hem slipped a fraction of an inch lower. He said nothing, only allowed his eyes to burn into hers, allowed her to see what she wanted to see. If she heard his cold tone, she would not be convinced, but the eyes... the eyes were windows to the soul. And he did lust after her, for she was a beautiful woman. She was sure to see that, and intensify it.

Still grasping her wrist, he slowly pushed her back towards the door, never once breaking their eye contact. She allowed him, not blinking as he pressed her against the door and allowed his hands to roam.

He truly had her as he captured her mouth in his. She would follow him anywhere. He owns her completely now. She fits him like a glove, it is true. They move together, against the wall, and she stumbles, falls, completely and totally into love with him.

* * *

And now, many, many years later, he is gone. Defeated by a simple babe. In the end, she wasn't fast enough. In the end, he went alone. In the end, she wasn't good enough. In the end... He was gone.

She would have followed him anywhere. Even into what lay beyond.

So when she went with the others to the home of the Longbottoms, she fully intended to go down in a flash of colored light.

But she didn't. She ended up imprisoned in Azkaban, scratching out days into stone and reliving those moments when he said nothing. The pain and agony were too great.

She gave up on him.


	3. Deceptively Pink

**Divergent Competition: **Candor: "Politeness is deception in pretty packaging."

**Collect a Collection: (Comp) **Marauder/Riddle Era: Narcissa Black, prompt (Shine) (**Challenge): **Slytherin (Dolores Umbridge), Teachers of Hogwarts (Umbridge), Ministry Workers (Umbridge)

**Star Challenge: **Canopus: Write about a time when someone was second best to someone.

**The Inspiration-By-Shakespeare Challenge: **The Merchant of Venice: the law, legal proceedings, or the Ministry of Magic

**The Female Character Challenge: **The Wife of Bath: Write about someone who strives to be better than everyone else.

**Fiddler Song Challenge:** If I Were a Rich Man: write about someone wishing for a better life.

**Fiddler Character Challenge: **Hodel: Alternatively, write about a child leaving home and venturing out into the world.

* * *

Dolores Jane Umbridge had learned that being polite got you anywhere in the real world. As a fresh, graduated Slytherin, she had entered the world ready to conquer it all with the same bossy and bullying air that had held her reign in within the castle walls of Hogwarts, but she soon realized that in the adult world, that air would give her nothing but grief.

The first time Dolores Jane Umbridge realized this was two years after she had graduated. She was currently working a simple secretarial job in the Ministry of Magic, was at the bottom of the bottom of the staff, and was picked on by all her colleagues. That is, until the day she saw seventeen year old Narcissa Black - soon to be Malfoy - walk regally through the hall of the Ministry and march straight towards the Head of Business's office.

The sight of seeing the formally tiny, shy girl striding through the place intrigued Dolores, and she crept into the office behind her, busily working with paperwork and pretending to be a fly on the wall as the young woman swept through the doors and bowed to the Head.

"Mr. Capris, I must insist you do something about this misunderstanding between your office and my fiancé's father's business. I do understand you have a department to run, but I'm positive we can work something out. Lucius and I are to be married in a mere week; I'm sure you understand how much pressure is being added to the details of wedding planning?" She smiled politely, but it never really reached her eyes. She was charming and perfect on top, but Dolores could see a certain amount of steel beneath the young woman's shining blonde tresses and lithe body.

"I, well, madam-"

"Madamoiselle, if you must; I am not married yet!" she laughed charmingly.

"Ah, yes, well _madamoiselle, _it is with the sincerest regrets that-"

"Oh, dear me, sincerest regrets? That does sound dismal. I may need to sit down, would you mind?" All the while, as she smoothly interrupted him and flustered him with her charm, she spun her web, trapping him.

"Why, yes, of course. Now, as I was saying-"

"Were you about to tell me that you couldn't postpone the business until after my fiancé and I had left for the honeymoon? Or, preferably, for when we had returned? It would be so unfair to Lucius to make him leave his father with such a mess when it could have been easily diverted by the right people," she remarked, pouting slightly.

"Well, Miss Black, I wasn't really going to do anything, but... the Malfoys are some of the best partners we have, and I would hate to inconvenience them at such an important time in both of your families. We regularly work with the Blacks as well, and I believe it won't be too difficult to rearrange a few things. I can't promise anything, though," he added, trying to save some face.

Dolores was aghast. It was most definitely problematic to try and rearrange the schedules; how could he just give in like that? She had to know. So she ran on her stubby little legs after Narcissa Black as the woman swept out.

"Black! Narcissa Black! How do you do it? Tell me. I need to know," she panted, finally catching up to the taller woman's longer strides.

"Do what? Talk to people? It's simple. I open my mouth and words come out, Dolores," she said sarcastically. This Narcissa was very different from the charming girl in Capris's office.

"No, convince them to do things for you. I need to know. Tell me how," Dolores insisted.

To her surprise, the younger girl spun around with anger. "I'm _polite. _I act _nice, _and _charming, _and people give me what I want because they are deceived. Politeness is only deception, Dolores - it just comes in a prettier package. So be nice and charming and _don't_ boss people around. And get a better look," she scoffed, glancing once at Dolores' putrid green robes. "You look like a toad."

Now, nearly 20 years later, Dolores remembered those wise words from Narcissa Black as she walked through the halls of Hogwarts. They had served her well, those words - once she changed her attitude, she attracted the attention of Cornelius Fudge and found it remarkably easy to wind him 'round her finger. Now she was the Minister's right hand, the spy at Hogwarts, the High Inquisitor. Her polite demeanor and fluffy cats, coupled with her constant array of a variety of pink would win over the students eventually.

She just had to find the perfect way to deceive them, and then, she would strike.


	4. Love is Pathetic

**Christmas Drabbles: **Santa Claus

Ummm... Idk where this came from. Huh.

* * *

(You better watch out)

They were sitting on the sofa, the man creating flashes of light for the little boy to giggle over. It would be terribly endearing to anyone who was not evil to the core, but this baby would be his downfall, unless he killed him first.

He didn't mind. He was Lord Voldemort - Dark Lord of all, coming in the night to bring death and destruction upon the little family. They didn't even know he was here. The stupid mudbloods and blood traitors.

When he opened the door, they would know. They would know they had been betrayed, and he had come for them.

(You better not cry)

He almost laughed at their screams and cries. It was pathetic, really - the boy was snatched by his mother as his father tried to stop him, the Dark Lord, with no wand.

He fell easily. They always did. He didn't even need the words to kill him; just a slash of green light and the man was gone.

His last cries would be lost to the world.

Poor, poor, family.

It was brilliant.

(You better not pout)

She pleaded, throwing herself before the cradle, 'Please, not Harry, not my son, not Harry, no, HARRY', pleading and pouting and begging, trying to make him stop.

But he was the Dark Lord and even the wishes of one of his most faithful servants would not keep him from finishing this task. The girl would have to go if she was to be this adamant about protecting her son.

He didn't understand it - he was being _merciful _for once, actually offering her a chance at life, and she wouldn't take it. And why? To protect a slobbering, baby child who was going to die anyways?

Pathetic.

Love was pathetic.

Soon she was gone, too, and there was only one last boundary to go.

(Santa Claus is coming to town)

He felt a bit like an evil Santa Claus, completely ruining the legend of his muggle childhood.

It was good to finally ruin the spirit of Christmas, even if it was only Halloween. He would deliver one final parting gift, one to the new baby, the 'savior' if you would - well this savior wasn't going to be able to save many people.

He stared the baby in the eyes, raising his wand. This kill; this one would be his final Horcrux, inside the sword of Gryffindor. Fittingly inside Godric's Hollow.

There was a flash of green, then a brilliant flash of white, and all went dark.

Maybe love wasn't as pathetic as he'd thought.


End file.
